Revenge in the Cotswolds (10 page)

‘It’s the system. It’s the way things work. They say it justifies itself ten times over. Nobody gets hurt, really. I’m a means to an end.’

‘So you’ll do it?’

‘I don’t really have a choice. You’re supposed to understand that. And it is a big operation. If it pays off, a lot of bad people will be off the streets.’ She looked more sure of herself as she spoke.

‘I can see that,’ said Thea, aware that she ought to back off, but still wondering why the subject had been raised in the beginning. ‘It doesn’t sound as if there is much of an alternative, then. Let’s hope it all works out as planned.’

‘I keep hearing Daddy’s voice in my ear, going on about the right thing, and integrity and all that sort of stuff. I’ve even been dreaming about him.’

‘Oh dear.’ Carl’s unwavering morality had been a key element in his make-up. It had made life easy for his wife and daughter, always knowing how he would react and what line he would take in virtually any situation. ‘I think he knew this sort of thing would arise, from the first moment you said you were going into the police.’

‘Uncle James had a chat with me, two or three years ago now, warning me about the grey areas. I don’t have much cause to complain, now it’s happening. I expect it gets easier.’

‘Your father never really had to make any nasty choices,’ Thea realised. ‘He chose a line of work where it was all perfectly plain.’

‘It’s not like that now, though, is it? The whole Green business has got pretty murky in some departments. Like we were just saying about wind farms.’

‘Yeah.’ Thea thought of Drew Slocombe and how similar he was to Carl in many ways. It was both unsettling and reassuring to see the pattern that was forming. ‘It goes with growing up, I guess. Sooner or
later you have to get your moral hands dirty, if that makes sense.’

‘That seems to be the general idea.’ Jessica smiled. ‘That helps, actually. People on the moral high ground can be rather awful. Not Daddy, but a lot of them. Complacent. Superior. The rest of us just have to do the best we can. Right?’

‘Right.’

The food had arrived in the middle of their exchange and they were eating absently, all their attention on each other and their thoughts. ‘Not bad,’ judged Jessica, holding up a forkful of lasagne. ‘I was starving.’

‘More beer?’

‘Why not? I’m not driving again for hours yet. Is Hepzie all right down there?’

The spaniel was flopped bonelessly on the floor under their table, worn out from the walk. ‘She’s fine,’ said Thea. ‘She likes a good walk.’ It was sufficiently inane to mark a break in their conversation. ‘Did I tell you about Maggs?’

‘Who? Oh – the girl undertaker. I must meet her sometime, she sounds unusual. What about her?’

‘She’s pregnant. I always thought she’d abjured children for ever, but it seems not.’

‘Is she married?’

‘Oh yes. Her husband was in the police. Den, he’s called. Very tall, with a Devon accent. He must be ten years older than her, at least. He used to help collect
bodies in an emergency, but now he works at Bristol Airport and isn’t very available.’

‘Why did he leave the police?’

‘I never really found out. There was a murder, and Drew’s wife got shot, and somehow Den lost his vocation. That’s all I know. He drifted around for years before getting this job. They’ve got hardly any money, same as Drew.’ Down below the surface, she had a sudden notion that Den was one of those to whom the moral high ground was the only place to be. Like Drew. And Carl. And possibly not Jessica. She sighed.

‘Complicated,’ said Jessica, without any discernible interest. ‘At least Uncle Damien’s not skint.’

‘Not exactly flush, either. I don’t know anybody who has enough cash, these days. You can’t make proper plans without money,’ she complained. ‘You just have to take life a week at a time.’

‘Like most of the human race,’ Jessica observed dryly.

‘I’m not happy to think poor Maggs has to live like someone in the Third World. At least they’re all in the same boat in Africa and places.’

‘They don’t call it the Third World any more, Ma. And there are quite a few rich people in Africa these days. China’s throwing money at them in Zambia and Botswana, for a start.’

‘Really? I’m very out of touch, then. I had no idea.’

Jessica waved this aside and finished off her meal
before speaking again. ‘You and Drew – what’s the plan?’ she asked.

‘Plan? Some hope! Everything’s on hold until the kids are older. We carry on as we are for the foreseeable future.’

Jessica shook her head. ‘Can’t see that happening. Treading water for years – what sort of a life is that? How often do you expect to see him, on that basis? What a waste!’

At your age
, Thea heard the unspoken words. She sighed. ‘Nothing like often enough. But neither of us can see any option. The children are still so young, and shell-shocked by losing their mother. He can’t do anything that unsettles them even more. He has to put them first, obviously. He
wants
to.’

‘Maggs has unsettled him, by the sound of it, getting herself pregnant. What’ll his kids think about her having a baby of her own? Presumably she’s a sort of mother substitute for them at the moment. That’ll change, won’t it?’

‘I don’t know.’ Thea felt like wailing at all the complications and frustrations in her life. She and Drew were so
right
together. Jessica’s generous and open reaction to the relationship had been wonderful – almost
too
wonderful, given that it was such an interrupted and sporadic affair.

‘Kids don’t mind change as much as people think, you know. They kick up a lot of fuss at first, but then they get on with it, no harm done. And at least there are two
of them. They still have each other, whatever happens.’

‘I don’t think that’s true. They
look
all right, maybe. But I think it does a lot of damage, deep down.’

Jessica shrugged. ‘It’s the same point, isn’t it – the theme for today. Something about the discrepancy between the ideal and the reality. That’s what we’re really talking about.’

Thea was impressed. ‘That’s very clever,’ she said.

‘I’ve been thinking about it quite a lot lately. Could be it’s a vital part of growing up – letting the ideals fade a bit.’

‘Which these eco-warrior people haven’t done. Does that mean they’re immature?’ She thought about it. ‘They’d be furious at the idea.’

‘They’re nowhere near as admirable as they think they are, that’s for sure. I don’t claim to know how their minds work. It’s something the police find rather frustrating, actually.’

Thea laughed. ‘I can imagine.’

They sat for another half an hour, after which Hepzie revived and grew restless. ‘Better go,’ said Jessica. ‘Are there any local attractions you want to show me?’

Thea’s mind went blank. ‘Cirencester’s rather nice. Lots of ancient Roman associations. A museum I’ve never been to. Wool. A big park …’

‘And a church. Don’t tell me.’ Jessica rolled her eyes. ‘No thanks. Why is it always the church that people focus on?’

‘I never mentioned the church. I agree with you, more or less, that they’re irrelevant in a lot of ways. But they’re also very beautiful, and they do show something of how people lived a thousand years ago, if you know how to find it.’ She felt a fraud, after her lack of response to the two churches she had visited that week. ‘Or how they thought, anyway,’ she amended.

‘Let’s just go back to Daglingworth and have some tea. I haven’t talked to that corgi properly yet.’

‘And the tortoise. Did I tell you there’s a hibernating tortoise?’

‘Yes, you did. Sounds fascinating.’

‘I haven’t even looked at it myself yet. I think it needs my help before it can start coming back to life. Something weird about giving it a bath. I’ve got everything written down.’

‘There’s a first time for everything,’ said Jessica, her attention fading yet again.

Thea’s car had been elected as the one to take them back, mainly because the fact of a muddy dog was less of a problem for her. The back seat had a sturdy cover designed to withstand whatever Hepzie might deposit on it. After years of ineffective nagging, Thea had eventually succeeded in persuading the animal to stay on it when wet or dirty. Which in fact she was not on this occasion, luckily for the floor of the Bathurst Arms.

For variety they followed a different route, alongside the River Churn, before turning right. ‘This is where
Sheila Whiteacre brought me,’ Thea remembered. ‘Did I tell you about her?’

‘One of the protesters?’ Jessica guessed.

‘Mother of one of them. No – two, actually. There’s a boy as well, who I haven’t seen. They live in Baunton. Fabulous house. Really nice people.’

‘All the houses are fabulous,’ sighed the girl. ‘Didn’t we already decide that?’

‘Oh, goodness. Look!’ Thea interrupted. She slowed the car, and craned her neck to look through a field gate on their left. ‘That must be Mr Handy’s Land Rover. I recognise the dog.’

The vehicle was parked crookedly just inside the open gate, and the collie was standing behind it. There was no sign of the farmer.

‘So what?’ said Jessica.

‘So nothing, really. I just …’ She realised she felt slightly guilty towards the man who had kindly given her a lift in the rain. She had thought bad things of him, thanks to DI Higgins and his questions. ‘I rather liked him,’ she muttered.

‘So?’ said Jessica again. ‘Are you going to stop and talk to him or what?’

‘No. I’d better not. I wouldn’t know what to say.’

Another car was coming up behind them, hooting for them to get out of the way. ‘Ma – you’ll have to move. You’re blocking the road.’

‘No need to hoot. Can’t he wait a minute?’ She looked into the rear-view mirror and caught a glimpse
of a man’s face, bracketed by large ears. ‘That’s one of the protesters,’ she said. ‘Steve. Nobody could miss those ears. He must get caught on CCTV all the time.’

Jessica laughed. ‘Just move,’ she insisted. ‘Unless you want to stop and talk to them.’

Still Thea was caught in a sort of paralysis. She
did
have things to say to Jack Handy, if only she could articulate them. She had questions for him as to where he stood with the police, and what, if anything, her testimony had done to help. The impatient Steve was a complication that rendered her stubborn. She pulled the car as far into the verge as she could, and turned off the engine.

‘Ma!’ Jessica protested, sounding far more alarmed than necessary.

‘Don’t worry. I won’t be a minute.’ She looked over her shoulder, wondering why Steve didn’t squeeze past her in the mud-splashed white car he was driving. He was sitting there, staring through the gateway at the Land Rover, with horror on his face.

‘Something’s wrong,’ Thea said. ‘He’s seen something.’ She got out of the car and went to the gateway. Instantly, she saw what Steve had seen and gave a cry.

Jessica followed her, seeming to take far too long to open her door and leave the car. Together they stood for ten seconds, making sense of the scene a few yards away.

A man was sitting on the ground, with his hand to his head. Blood was pouring through his fingers and he was moaning. His dog stood close, but not close enough to touch. The man’s other arm was extended as if to ward the animal off.

‘What happened to him?’ asked another voice behind Thea. ‘I saw his feet and legs, through the hedge.’ It was the big-eared, scrappy-bearded protester. ‘Uncle Jack? It’s me, Steve. What happened?’

Uncle Jack
, Thea repeated to herself, noting a slight similarity between the two that would never have struck her without help. The question being asked did seem to be the only rational one and she waited for an answer before moving.

Jessica, however, showed no such hesitation. She knelt beside the farmer, and pulled his hand away. ‘Can you see?’ she asked him. ‘Can you tell me your name?’

He mumbled something, and she nodded. ‘All right. I’m calling an ambulance for you. You don’t have to talk, but try not to go to sleep, okay? Stay upright if you can.’ She extracted a phone from her pocket and was soon giving an account of the situation to an emergency person. ‘Where are we?’ she asked Steve. ‘Exactly.’

‘It’s the A435,’ he told her. ‘Just north of the A417. They’ll find it.’

Jessica shook her head briefly and relayed the information, repeating it twice. Finishing the call, she turned back to the injured man. ‘They shouldn’t be very long. One of us can go back to the junction and wait for them. They might not see us otherwise.’

‘I’ll go,’ said Thea, but Steve was quicker. He got into his car and reversed the short way back to where they had turned off the larger road. Shrugging, she looked at Jack Handy. ‘Did somebody hit you?’ she asked.

He gave no reply and Jessica threw her a sharp look.
But Thea was already deep in thought, the murder of another man very prominent in her mind. If Handy had been attacked in a similar way – perhaps even intended for a tumble into the same quarry, which was barely a quarter of a mile away – then didn’t that prove that he had not killed the first victim? Didn’t that suggest that the original assumptions as to motives were awry?

The man was terribly pale, his skin almost grey under the streaks of blood. The shoulders of his jacket were splashed with red, and his fingers looked as if they’d been stuck together by the congealing gore from his head wound. He was taking deep noisy breaths, which appeared to be calming him, but he swayed more and more until he flopped onto his back. But he was still able to lift his head at Thea’s question and his eyes met hers.

‘There was a gang of them,’ he said clearly. Then, ‘Ouch!’

Jessica was gently inspecting the wound, which was to one side of his crown. Most of his hair was matted and dark on that side, and the girl had pulled some of it slightly. ‘The bleeding’s nearly stopped,’ she reported. ‘Did you black out?’

He frowned. ‘Might have done. They’d all disappeared when I opened my eyes. That bloody dog was no use,’ he added thickly. ‘Just danced around them barking. Got hold of one lad’s ankle for a minute, that’s all. He soon kicked her off.’

‘It’s a collie,’ Thea defended instinctively. ‘What did
you expect? And besides, she’s old. They might have hit her as well if she’d got too close.’

‘Could be,’ he admitted. ‘Anyhow, looks as if I’ll live.’

‘Your skull might be cracked. There could be a swelling of the brain. You’ll have to be watched,’ Jessica said briskly. ‘But the signs are fairly encouraging,’ she added. Thea suspected it was more for the sake of providing reassurance than an accurate observation. After all, he was obviously no longer able to sit upright.

‘A
gang
?’ Thea repeated. ‘Did you know them?’

‘Those protesters,’ he panted. ‘Girls, mostly. A couple of blokes. Shouting about their mate Danny and how it must’ve been me who chucked him in the quarry. Warning me I’d not get away with it. I told them to bugger off, and the one chap hit me with my own stick. Not just the once, either. The girls pushed me at him and he laid into me.’ He put a hand to his cheek. ‘Hurts here,’ he said. ‘And I’ve lost a tooth.’

Mother and daughter peered closer through the obscuring blood, and found swellings in several places on his face. ‘Nasty,’ said Jessica. ‘You’re going to have to press charges against them. I assume you know who they are?’

‘Are you police?’ he asked thickly. His eyelids were fluttering and his mouth hung open after he’d spoken.

‘He’s losing consciousness,’ said Jessica urgently. ‘Where’s that ambulance?’

‘I can hear something,’ said Thea. ‘No siren, though.’

‘No need out here. It’s only intended to get traffic out of the way.’

Less than half a minute later, an ambulance came down the road, only just getting past Thea’s car and into the gateway. Two bulky paramedics jumped into action, asking staccato questions and festooning the patient with devices presumably designed to record his vital signs.

‘Where’s Steve?’ asked Thea. ‘Chap in a dirty white car.’

Nobody replied and she forgot him in the excitement. The ambulance people seemed worried, and one of them went to speak on the radio in the vehicle.

‘Where will you take him?’ Jessica asked the other one.

‘And what about his dog?’ wondered Thea. The shaggy animal was pacing restlessly, making little growls and whines. There was mud up its legs and around its neck.

The ambulance man ignored the question that was beyond his remit and answered the other. ‘John Radcliffe, most likely. Don’t like his readings, to be honest with you. Don’t you know him?’

‘Not really,’ said Thea. ‘I’ve met him once, that’s all. He was talking to us two minutes ago, perfectly lucidly.’

‘That’s good,’ said the man unconvincingly. ‘The police are aware there’s an incident. They ought to show up any time. We’ll make sure they know it’s a case of foul play.’

‘There must be people around who’ll take the dog, if they have to,’ said Jessica. ‘Hasn’t he got any family?’

Thea blinked. ‘I really don’t know,’ she said, racking her brains for any mention of a wife or child during their brief ride four days ago. ‘I don’t even know where he lives.’

‘Won’t be too difficult to find out,’ said Jessica stoutly. ‘We know his name, don’t we?’

‘Jack Handy,’ nodded Thea.

‘I wasn’t sure I’d heard him right, but I thought he said “Dandy”,’ smiled the girl. ‘Lucky you know better.’

The sheepdog came slowly up to them and nudged Thea’s arm with her nose. ‘Poor Rags,’ Thea murmured. ‘We’ll see you’re all right, okay?’ She stroked the black-and-white head, and then ran her hand down one side. ‘You’re very matted, aren’t you?’ she muttered. ‘I bet you live in an outside shed or something. Might not even be house-trained.’

‘You know its name?’ Jessica was surprised.

‘We were introduced. I remembered because it’s a male name for a female dog. And I’ve got a thing about dogs, in case you haven’t noticed.’

The ambulance was preparing to leave. ‘Not coming?’ they asked, not expecting a positive reply.

‘Where did Steve go?’ Thea wondered afresh. ‘Did he meet you at the junction, to show you where to come?’

The paramedics shook their heads. ‘We saw your car down here,’ they said, ‘and assumed that was where we were needed.’ Then they drove off, leaving Thea to try to calculate how far away Oxford must be. It had to be thirty miles at least.

‘Doesn’t that seem suspicious?’ she asked, thinking about the Steve person.

Jessica confirmed this with a frown. ‘Weird,’ she said.

‘We can vouch for him,’ Thea said slowly. ‘I mean – that he wasn’t one of the attackers. He drove up behind us. But he might have known it was happening. They were his friends. Although, he called him
uncle
. He might have been deliberately left out, because of that.’

Jessica was standing with her arms wrapped around herself, leaning against Thea’s car. ‘I hope he comes round and tells the local chaps the whole story,’ she said. ‘I don’t want to get drawn into it.’

‘Do we have to wait here? Why are they taking so long?’

‘They’ve got my number, so they’ll find us, in any case. Or I can call again, and tell them where we are. Give them another couple of minutes and then we can go.’

‘We’ll have to take Rags. And what about the Land Rover? We
can’t
go, Jess.’

‘Right. Sorry. I ought to have thought.’

They hung about for five more minutes, trying to reassure the worried sheepdog, until a police car finally materialised. Two uniformed officers got out and asked a lot of very basic and not very relevant questions. ‘I’m with the Manchester force,’ Jessica told them, after a while. ‘I know how this goes. Can we find out Mr Handy’s address and take his dog home? We’ll do it, if you tell us where to go.’

The men blinked at the deviation from protocol. They were slightly older than Jessica, their uniforms neat and clean, their faces bland. They said ‘madam’ a lot, to both Thea and her daughter. They showed very little sign of grasping the significant features of the incident, and kept staring at the Land Rover as if expecting its owner to be somewhere inside it.

‘You can find his address through the vehicle registration,’ Jessica said helpfully.

‘Have you got ID?’ one of them asked her. ‘Anyone could say they were a police officer.’ He scratched his cheek. ‘Around here, it wouldn’t come as a surprise, either. You could be one of these eco-idiots, for all we know.’

‘We’re not,’ said Thea crossly. ‘And we’re getting cold and a bit impatient, quite honestly. Neither of us lives around here. We’ve just got involved by accident. The man was attacked. He knows at least some of the people who did it. We can help you to get it straight, if you just listen for a minute.’

‘All right, madam,’ said the man ponderously. The ghost of a mountain of paperwork hovered before all their eyes. ‘Might this be connected to the death of the man in the quarry at the weekend, do you think?’

‘Almost certainly,’ said Thea. ‘The same people are involved. Mr Handy was – last I heard – one of the prime suspects for having killed him. I think you probably need to speak to Detective Inspector Higgins, and get yourselves up to speed on it all. This is wasting everybody’s time.’

The effort to remain polite was plainly considerable. ‘Mother!’ Jessica gasped. ‘Behave yourself.’

‘Well, they’re impossible. We’ve stayed here waiting for them in the cold; we’ve offered to take the dog home, when that’s obviously their job; we’re trying to explain what’s happened and all they can do is ask for identification and what our mother’s maiden names might be.’

‘DI Higgins?’ said the second man, who was smaller and quieter, but no quicker on the uptake than his partner.

‘Yes. He knows me. I’ve seen him very recently. Haven’t you got access to the case file about all this? Didn’t anybody even make the connection when Jack Handy’s name came up?’

‘It didn’t come up, Ma,’ said Jessica. ‘I didn’t give a name when I called the nines. They have no way of knowing.’

‘Well, now they do. Just get his address, and we can go. Jeremy knows where I am if he wants me.’

The use of the DI’s first name was a calculated gamble. She hoped it would intimidate these constables into a better quality of attention. It could easily have gone the wrong way, but it seemed to have worked.

‘That’s your car?’ queried the talkative one.

‘Yes. And the spaniel inside it is mine as well. This dog here, named Rags, belongs to Mr Handy. We’re hoping he has a wife or other relative at home who can take custody of it.’ A thought struck her. ‘A person who presumably by now is aware of his injuries and might be on her – or his – way to Oxford, or wherever they’ve taken him.’ The ramifications began to overwhelm her. ‘Oh, God,’ she groaned. ‘This is too much. How do we know what to do, if you can’t even get the simplest details sorted?’

The officers decided to give up. ‘We have your contact details. We can call you when we know more about Mr …’ he glanced at his notes ‘Handy’s situation. If you could kindly take charge of his dog in the meantime, that would be appreciated. We need to secure this crime scene and wait for back-up.’

‘We can go?’ Thea could hardly believe it.

‘They don’t need us, Ma,’ said Jessica tightly. ‘Let’s get back to the house. The corgi will be feeling neglected.’

‘God, yes. So she will, poor thing. And stop calling me Ma,’ she added. It was bad enough in a text – out loud in front of policemen, it was outrageous.

Rags climbed onto the back seat beside Hepzie with
a look that said
I will do as you say, but I’m not at all sure it’s wise
. Thea sighed. Intelligent dogs always bothered her, the way they could see through human failings, and yet still maintained their loyalty. This one was muddy and scruffy, as well.

‘That was a completely ludicrous business,’ she snapped, as they drove away. ‘Why were they so
stupid
?’

‘They weren’t really. They had to get things in the right order. It was us as much as them. We were wrong to assume they knew who the man was. That was fairly stupid, actually. They’ll get it all straight in no time and let us know what to do with the dog.’

‘Oh, Lord,’ Thea’s sense of losing control gained ground as she imagined the next few hours. ‘I can’t just introduce a strange dog into the Fosters’ house. It might kill Gwennie. It might pee on their carpet.’ Looking at the road layout ahead, an association struck her. ‘I know! I can go to Baunton and see if the Whiteacres can help. They’ll know where Jack Handy lives, for a start, and whether he’s got a wife. I might even leave Rags with them.’ The dog was licking urgently at a front paw on the back seat. When Thea glanced back, she whined, and rubbed at her nose with the licked foot. ‘I hope they didn’t hurt her,’ she worried. A sudden choking-cum-coughing sound only increased her anxiety. ‘What’s wrong with you?’ she asked. The dog wagged a slow tail, and coughed again.